


Training

by BlackKyber



Category: saigenos - Fandom, ワンパンマン | One-Punch Man
Genre: Conversations, Cute Genos, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gay, Hero Saitama, I Ship It, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Love, M/M, One Punch Man - Freeform, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Short Story, Speed O Sound Sonic, Trains, Villain to Hero, saigenos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-12-26 19:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18288542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackKyber/pseuds/BlackKyber
Summary: Coming back from a trip to City B, the ninja known as Speed O’ Sound Sonic runs into some unexpected trouble before the train even leaves the station. But the person who shows up to “rescue” him from his trauma proves to be an even bigger headache.





	Training

“Well, hello. Mind if I sit here?”

Sonic glanced up. Standing in front of him was a giant of a man, all neck and legs, staring down on him with a disgusting leer.

Sonic was on his way back from City B, and was tired. The train was fairly empty, and he had picked this car because nobody else was in it. The last thing he wanted was to deal with this repugnant leach ... and he also didn’t want things to escalate, to the point where he’d have to kill the man. He hadn’t killed anybody in almost 3 months, a new record for him, and one he was determined to keep going.

Not that this man was making it easy for him. He sat down across from Sonic and leaned forward, his noxious breath assaulting Sonics nostrils, as he said, 

“You’re about the hottest thing I’ve seen in days.” He pulled a fat wallet from his pocket, revealing a load of 100-yen notes. He dug several from the stack and held it out towards Sonic, continuing, 

“I’ll give you this if you come with me to the toilets.”

“Fuck off,” Sonic mumbled, inching closer to the window. 

But the man, rather than leave him be, decided to take this as a challenge.

“Fuck off? I’d rather fuck YOU, sweetheart. Please?” He pulled another wad of yen notes from his pocket, adding it to the pile already clutched in his fist. “All this, for ten, fifteen minutes, tops. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“Not for a million yen.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he said, laying his hand on Sonic’s shoulder. “It’s a long trip; I’m sure we’ll both get lonely. But maybe we can help each other out with that, eh?”

“Get your hand off of me,” Sonic said, calmly, “Unless you want to lose it.”

Instead, the man’s grip tightened, and his face uttered a nasty smile, revealing several missing teeth. “Lose it? And who’s going to make me lose it? A sexy, innocent little thing like you?”

“Jeez, dude; get the hell out of here.”

The voice came from behind them, and Sonic and the man both turned around, startled.

Oh, _great_.

This guy.  
Saitama.

Ever since the day Sonic had lost his first fight ever to the man standing there, his life had been in upheaval. His subsequent challenging him to duel, and repetitive losses, had made Sonic lose confidence in his abilities like nothing ever had. Hence this trip into City B.

What made things worse was that the guy standing there, WASN’T a bad guy at all. Strange, maybe, but not bad. The man had in fact tried to become friends with Sonic, on multiple occasions, only to be met with hostility at every turn.

But what in the world was he doing here, now? It was clear he wasn’t there on “hero” business; he was dressed casually, in a black and white plaid shirt, a pair of raggedy-looking black shorts, a baseball cap, and sandals.

In front of Sonic, the large man bristled all over, at being spoken to in such a manner. Standing up, he towered over Saitama, his arms folded in front of his chest.

“Oh yeah? And who’s gonna make me get out? A scrawny baldy like you?”

“He said he wasn’t interested,” Saitama said, his usual dull, blank expression on his face. “Are you deaf or just an idiot?”

The man’s face turned a dark, angry red. He balled up a fist the size of a ham and swung it at Saitama ... and promptly crumpled to the floor, once it connected.

“Ow ow OW! Holy shit, my hand! You broke my hand you bastard!”

Saitama shook his head and sighed. He picked up the man by the collar, and dragged him through to the next car, which was also empty, and had a door to the outside. Saitama opened it and tossed the man out the door and into the fast-moving dirt, then slammed the door back behind himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Saitama said with a grin, as he sat himself down in the seat diagonally across from Sonic.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sonic mumbled, looking back out the window. “I could have handled that guy on my own.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But your way of handling things would probably land you right back in prison, wouldn’t it?”

“What do you care whether I go back to prison or not?”

Saitama smiled, saying, “I don’t, really. But see if you killed that guy, they’d stop the train, the police would be called, and the whole thing would just end in a huge delay in me getting back home. My way was faster, and more humane.”

Sonic sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the seat.

“What are you even doing out here?”

Pulling a crumpled-up grocery store ad from his pocket, Saitama explained, 

“There was supposed to be this super mega sale at this market in the south suburbs of B city. Going out of business, everything 95% off. I got there super-early, but even then, the line to get into the store stretched for blocks. By the time I could get in, there wasn’t anything left.”

Sonic rolled his eyes. “Hard to believe that there are people out there more concerned with being cheap than you are.”

“Eh, I prefer ‘frugal’ to ‘cheap’.”

“There are a lot of empty cars on this train, you know. No reason for you to be HERE.”

Ignoring this, Saitama asked him, curiously,

“Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot? Being hit on by guys, I mean?”

Sonic scowled, fully facing him for the first time as he answered, “Again, what do you care?”

Saitama chuckled and took his pack off of his back. He laid it on his lap and pulled out a giant sandwich, which he began peeling the plastic wrapping off of.

“Just trying to make conversation, Sonic. As your buddy pointed out, it’s a long trip home. Time goes a little faster when you have a friend to talk to.”

“We’re not friends.”

Saitama shrugged. “If you say so.” He broke his sandwich in half and held the bigger half out towards Sonic. “Here, have some.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Come on, Sonic. From one train passenger to another, two men who happen to be sitting across from each other totally randomly, and are absolutely NOT friends.”

Sonic was unable to prevent a small smile at that, relented, and took the food from Saitama. “Fine. Thanks,” he muttered, before biting in. The first bite revealed how hungry he actually was, and he quickly polished off the entire thing.

Saitama watched him from the corner of his eye for a while, eating his own sandwich, before suddenly clearing his throat and saying,

“It’s really nice.”

“Huh?”

“Your hair,” Saitama elaborated, pointing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it down before; usually you always have it tied up in that knot thing. So long.”

“Oh ... ah ...”

Saitama finished with his sandwich and stood up a little, in order to brush crumbs from his lap. As he sat back down, he said, 

“So what are you doing so far away from Z-City? And what’s with the formal shirt and tie? You go to a wedding or something?”

Sonic hesitated at first, but then, deciding that he didn’t really have much else to do, Sonic answered, honestly, “Looking for a job.”

Saitama’s eyes widened in surprise, and he reached back into his backpack and pulled out a decadent-looking frosted muffin. He undid the wrapper and again broke the item in half, holding the other piece out to Sonic. 

“A job? Like, a real job? Have you given up on being a ninja?”

“Looks like it,” Sonic said, sighing before taking a bite of his muffin. “The sole purpose of being a ninja is to eradicate your enemies swiftly, silently, and _without fail_ ,” he explained, looking pointedly at Saitama. “But once you fail on **one** target, well —“

“So it’s my fault, eh?”

“Looks like it,” Sonic repeated, wiping his crummy hands off on his pants. Then, after a moments pause, he said, reluctantly, “Well, no, I guess not. Things had been going to hell in my life long before you and your stupid bald head showed up. My losing to you all the time didn’t create the other problems; it just made them stand out more prominently.”

Deciding that he had said enough personal things, he changed the subject by asking, “Have you got something to drink in that never-ending snack pack, or what?”

Saitama fished around until he came up with a flavored soda, which he handed to the (former?) ninja.

“You said you were looking for a job? Why all the way out in City B? Why not look closer to home?”

“City Z isn’t really my ‘home’, per se; it’s just where I most frequently set up a base. But even if it were, I could never walk into an office, or a company, there.”

“How come?”

“You mean _besides_ the fact that my name and face are on every wanted poster from the forest to the inner city?”, Sonic asked, sarcastically. “No, it wouldn’t work. Even if the person who hired me didn’t recognize me at first, I’m sure eventually one of my coworkers would, and try to turn me in for the bounty. So I went away as far as I could, hoping my reputation hasn’t spread everywhere yet.”

“Ah, I see. Did you have any luck?”

Sonic shook his head. “No. The man I went to see today, he recognized me almost immediately. Called security and everything. I escaped, of course, then waited until things had cooled down before I caught this train back.” He paused, and sighed. “Maybe I should just get out of Japan altogether. I hear America has lots of opportunities.”

“America? Can you even speak English?”

“Nah. I mean, I can say the months of the year, and count to twenty, but that’s it,” Sonic said, taking another drink of his soda. “But I’m a fast learner. Nothing wrong with giving it a shot, anyway, is there?”

“Sonic ... have you ever thought about joining the Hero Association?”

Sonic had been in the middle of taking a sip of his soda, and Saitama’s words made him burst into laughter, causing the liquid to go down the wrong hole. He clapped himself on the chest, getting himself under control, before replying,

“What the hell? Are you drunk? Why would I do something like that?”

“It’s a job, for one. Two, you get to kill monsters, something that should satisfy your blood-lust. And three, I think you’d be good at it. With your speed and combat skill, your intelligence, you should have no problem making it into at least A-class right off the bat, maybe even S.”

“Did you not hear what I said, about the bounty on my head? Who the hell do you think it was that SET that bounty?! The Hero Association, of course! And you think I can just waltz in and ask them for a job? Are you an idiot?”

“Maybe,” Saitama answered, “But I think I’m right about this. The Hero Association is a business before anything else; they’re always interested in negotiating, and eliminating problems in a peaceful way. That’s what happened with Genos, you know. The Association had been trailing him for months, following the path of destruction he was leaving after him. In the end they made the decision to bring him and his destructive power into the Hero Association, where they could use it for their own purposes. I bet they’d feel the same way about you and your skill set.”

“So you want me to grovel to them, so that they’ll decide to _use_ me for my skills?”

“Isn’t that what ANY job is, Sonic? Somebody in a higher position than you, using you for what you can give them? In turn you’re compensated with money, and fame, and —“

“Fame?”, Sonic repeated, practically spitting out the word. “Is that why YOU’RE a hero, Saitama? For the fame? For the brainless, screaming, pandering fans? How pathetic.”

Saitama shook his head. “No, it’s not. Honestly I was just trying to think of something other than money that might persuade you into this, but I forgot, you’re too much like me.”

“I am nothing like you.”

Saitama opened his mouth, seemingly about to argue more ... when he abruptly closed it again. Instead, what he said never seemed so out of place that it gave Sonic a few genuine moments of confusion.

“You’re into guys, aren’t you, Sonic?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not asking it like I think there’s something wrong with that, because I don’t think that. I’m just asking out of curiosity.”

Blushing, Sonic lowered his head and mumbled, 

“Yeah. I like guys. So what?”

“That guy that was here when I first came in ... I’m gonna guess that he’s not the first, and won’t be the last, to try and proposition you like that.”

“Er ...”

“You’re obviously a great-looking dude, and people aren’t exactly blind to that fact. So why not make a career out of that?”

“Out of — what? Being a ... a prostitute?”

“No, you’re better than that. Be a full-on escort. Make them take you to fancy dinners, nice hotels, before you give anything to them. Men would pay a fortune to have you for an evening.”

“But I —“

“Or, have you ever tried cross-dressing? I’d bet you could double your clientele that way. A tight black dress, heels, some silky underwear ... hell, that gets MY motors turning just thinking about it. How’d you like to follow ME to the bathroom?”

“Shut up!”, Sonic shouted at him, having finally found his voice. His face was hot with embarrassment and he felt flustered, but he continued, “To think that I would do something like that is completely ridiculous!”

Leaning back in his seat, and grinning, Saitama said, slyly, “Any more ridiculous than joining the Hero Association?”

Sonic opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “You mean, you were just kidding?”

“It COULD be that I was exaggerating a tiny bit, just so that you’d see my point.”

“You go to some crazy lengths to make a point, you know that?”

“Heh,” Saitama chuckled. He slipped off his sandals and swung his feet up on the seat that was beside Sonic, stretching and yawning. “I’m gonna take a little nap. Give some thought to what I said, okay? And please don’t try to kill me in my sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, to which one?”

“To both. But can I ask you something first?”

“Yeah—?”

“I know you said you were kidding, but ... hypothetically, if you weren’t — am **I** your type?”

Saitama looked at him, and smiled. “Full honesty? At the moment, I am head over heels in love with somebody else. My love for that person totally blinds me towards the prospect of others. But if that wasn’t the case, well ... I think you have a lot to offer, my friend. You’d be an amazing part of anyone’s life.“

Sonic smiled back, and nodded. “Thank you.” He felt that he was blushing again, and was annoyed with himself. So to save face, he said, gruffly, “Just go to sleep already, would ya?”

Saitama pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, and was out like a light within minutes, snoring away. Sonic watched him for awhile, then turned back to the windows, his fist propped up on his cheek, thinking.

Thinking.

—-

“Genos? Are you here? I’m home!”, Saitama called out as he opened the door, taking off his shoes and hanging his backpack on the hook beside the door.

Saitama could hear the low clank of metal coming towards him from the kitchen, and he smiled, as Genos appeared before him.

“Saitama! Welcome home. Was your bargain-hunting trip a success, or —“

Genos couldn’t even get out that full sentence, before Saitama leapt at him and tackled him to the floor, smothering him with kisses. The heavy thud created by their bodies made things in the apartment shake and rattle ... but it didn’t serve to hurt either of them.

“Oh, I’ve missed you,” Saitama murmured, holding Genos closely.

“You just saw me this morning. We have only been apart for approximately 8.5 hours.”

Saitama shrugged and continued to kiss him, both of his hands cradling the blonde’s soft cheeks.

“Approximately 8.5 hours is approximately 8.5 hours too long,” he told him, giving him a final kiss. He stood up and offered Genos his hand to help him back up, looking around the little place.

“Did you clean in here?”

Genos lowered his head, and mumbled a low “Yes.”

“Gennnn! I told you to leave that for me to do! You do too much for me. You spoil me!”

Genos took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. “But I DID leave something for you. See?”, he said, proudly, pointing into the sink. Saitama looked; inside was one single tea mug, already looking suspiciously shiny, as if it had been pre-washed.

Saitama sighed and squeezed Genos’ hand. “Sometimes, you have no idea how infuriatingly wonderful you are.”

He gently pushed Genos down into a chair, and opened up the refrigerator. “Well, I’m at least making dinner. So sit there, and tell me what you did today.”

As Genos spoke, Saitama chopped up a handful of vegetables, smiling to himself. He wondered when would be a good time to tell him that tomorrow, he and Saitama would be escorting Speed O’ Sound Sonic into the Hero Association headquarters. It would be difficult; Genos, for obvious reason, didn’t like Sonic, and it would take a hard time for Saitama to convince the cyborg that Sonic was interested in a change for the better.

“Maybe if **I** wear some silky underwear tonight, it might soften Genos’ mood a little towards this,” Saitama mumbled to himself.

“Did you say something, Saitama?”

“Nope. Just talking to myself. But go on. You used your machine gun blow on the claw-face monster; then what?”


End file.
